


Like a Scarf Trick, All Up the Sleeve

by 64907



Series: See Me Bare My Teeth For You [1]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Car Sex, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 15:20:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6334132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/64907/pseuds/64907
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's on his way back when he finds him.</p><p>[Prequel to the serial killers AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Scarf Trick, All Up the Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegetfxckedcrew (nintendomiya)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nintendomiya/gifts).



> Though this is set in the same universe as [See Me Bare My Teeth For You](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2790140), there's really no need to read the crazier, graphic predecessor. yourbonesshake told me to do this after I showed her [this text post](http://sunblades.tumblr.com/post/140949696356/jewishzevran-clowneprince). She also sent me [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dkYYBC9Bmio).
> 
> Thanks to my betas who definitely improved this thing!

He’s on his way back when he finds him.

Sho is not an idiot. He checks the time by glancing at the rented car’s digital clock and reads 11:03 PM.

The hour is late.

Ahead of him is a clearing in the snow. Cold and almost soothing as it reveals another stretch of the dark and slippery road, and just a few feet away there’s a man standing, waiting for someone to stop and give him a ride.

He glances into his rear view mirror despite knowing that the road is empty at this hour. The atrocious tales of souls seeking retribution wandering the highway often scared both locals and tourists away, but Sho supposes, with him carrying what he’s carrying, there is hardly anything he ought to be terrified of.

It’s hard to see the man’s face because he’s got one hand raised to shield his eyes against Sho’s headlights. Sho dims them before pulling his car to a stop and rolling down the window.

“Need a lift?” he asks despite the obvious.

The stranger removes his gloves before peering through the opened ledge, his bare hand holding onto the window railing. Sho notes that he has a tiny mole on his middle finger, just half an inch above the striking silver ring he’s wearing.

It’s difficult to see the man’s eyes because of how dark it is around them. Sho can’t read his expression. All he sees are puffs of breath turning into mist as they leave the man’s parted, chapped lips.

“You must be cold,” Sho says, turning up the car’s heater for show. He catches the man following his movement.

“It’s that time of the year,” the man acknowledges, his voice revealing nothing. It takes a beat of staring into each other’s eyes (or as much Sho can see under the stranger’s beanie and past the shadows coloring the man’s face) before Sho hears the door opening.

The man climbs up, and Sho rolls the window back up.

“Where are you headed?” he asks, watching as the stranger fastens his seatbelt. He takes off his beanie and ruffles his hair before turning to look at Sho.

The lack of light does nothing but accentuate the already pronounced features on the man’s face. He doesn’t smile, but he looks at Sho as if he’s searching for something. Sho merely tilts his head as he waits for a response.

“The train station,” the stranger finally answers. His hands are now untangling his muffler, revealing the pale column of his neck. Sho doesn’t miss the fact that he also has a couple of beauty marks there.

The train station is in the other way. Sho hums and finally shifts gear. “The last train already left,” is what he chooses to say.

In his periphery, he catches the stranger grin. “Rather unfortunate, isn’t it?”

He’s lying about the train station. Sho knew from the moment the words left his lips. Instead of asking the man to leave, however, he simply nods. “I would say so.”

The man seems startled. His fingers, which were tapping an unknown rhythm against the glass halt in their movement. Only the briefest of moments passes until Sho feels the man’s stare.

“Where are you headed?” is his question, a repeat of Sho’s. Unlike Sho’s though, his question is punctuated with caution and doubt. It makes Sho smile.

“Downtown,” he says. He supposes that’s not really a lie, since he does intend to go back home after he does his business.

The stranger faces him. The darkness is sufficient at hiding whatever is on his mind from Sho, but he hears genuine wonder when the man says, “Taking a left after the third exit would have brought you to the closest town.” There’s a pause, and Sho just keeps the grin on his face. “This road would take you farther.”

“Are you a local?” Sho finally asks, giving his passenger a quick glance. There’s a tiny frown on his face and Sho doesn’t lose his smile. “I would hate it if you were.”

“Thankfully, I am not,” he says and reaches out to turn on the radio. An EXILE song blasts from the car’s speakers, piercing through the silence.

So far the man has parried the questions with vague non-answers, but it only makes him even more interesting in Sho’s eyes.

Sho waits until he’s close to singing along with the chorus. “Where are you really headed?”

“Where are _you_ really going?” the man asks back, and when Sho turns, he sees the stranger smiling for the first time, all perfect white teeth. There’s another mark under his bottom lip, close to his chin. Sho didn’t notice it before because of how full the man’s lips are.

His gaze inevitably moves to his rear view mirror. He’s about to answer when they reach a gas station.

He can feel the stranger’s unwavering stare on him as he pulls over. “I’m not really heading back,” he admits. He doesn’t honk his horn to get the gasoline boy’s attention, not yet.

The stranger licks his lips like he’s making a show of it. Looking into his eyes, Sho can see that he has this man’s attention, his interest. The handle of Sho’s revolver is pressing against his hip, but he makes no move to reach for it.

“I’m not either.”

Sho simply cannot read him.

The man reaches out to honk the horn before opening the door. “I’m getting Oreos,” he declares, right before he climbs out. He looks over his shoulder. “Want anything?”

“A fiber bar,” Sho says, flashing him a smile. The stranger climbs out just as an attendant approaches the car, and Sho only watches as he enters the convenience store nearby.

It takes a few minutes to get the tank filled, but Sho’s passenger climbs back in the car right on time. He’s cradling a pack of red velvet Oreos and a fiber bar, depositing them on his lap as he fastens his seatbelt once more.

They’re back on the road before the man hands him the bar.

“Jun,” the stranger says. Seeing Sho’s confusion, he smiles. “I’m Jun.”

Out of all the things he has told Sho so far, that sounded like the one closest to a truth.

Sho takes the bar from him, making sure their fingers brush. He’s warm, more than Sho will ever be despite the car’s heater functioning adequately.

“Sho,” he answers, tearing the packet open with his teeth. “My name is Sho.”

Jun nods in acknowledgement, his smile never leaving his face.

\--

He said his name is Matsumoto Jun, 32 years of age, working as a cook and currently residing in Tokyo but is on a yet unspecified trip in Aomori. Sho told him as much, giving his full name, age, and job but never his business. He didn’t miss Jun’s smile when he caught on how Sho withheld information.

They reach Hirosaki with the sun high in the sky. Jun has fallen asleep sometime in the past hour, his hair fallen over his eyes as he dozed off. His breathing is labored, and Sho takes the opportunity to look at his face properly, something he wasn’t able to do the night before.

There are marks left by acne all over Jun’s face, tiny imperfections that only make Sho unable to look away. There’s a small dot on his upper lip and one above it, his long eyelashes fanning his cheeks.

“Mind the road,” Jun suddenly says, voice still groggy. He cracks one eye open, and Sho only smiles, not even the slightest bit embarrassed at being caught staring.

“I’m driving slowly,” he says, tearing his gaze away from Jun’s form.

Jun settles into a more comfortable position, the corner of his lips curling. “Are you going to the airport?”

“Too many people.” Too risky, Sho doesn’t add. Jun doesn’t know much about him. He doesn’t need to know anything more.

There’s a hand suddenly circling his wrist, and when he turns, he sees Jun smiling despite his eyes still closed. “Let’s go to Towada.”

He ignores the heat emanating from Jun’s hold on him. It’s not too late to change course, especially not when Sho’s merely wasting gas until he comes to a decision. “You’re going swimming? In this weather?” There’s a predicted snowstorm later tonight. Sho heard it when he turned the radio on to listen to the morning news. Plus, it would be too cold to try to swim in a lake that’s likely frozen.

“No,” Jun says, his amusement obvious in his voice despite it still being laced with sleep. “The lake is frozen.”

Jun is still grasping his wrist when his eyes snap open. He looks at Sho in seriousness, but laced with something else that Sho can’t name. In the future, he will be able to call it ‘Jun’s uncanny ability to know what he’s thinking’. It’s too early for that at this time, and he simply frowns and leaves it unidentified.

“Towada. Trust me,” Jun whispers, soft enough that Sho had to strain his ears to hear it.

Sho doesn’t, but of course he doesn’t voice it out. He only met Jun a couple of hours ago, in an almost abandoned and unlit road no less. There are things Sho didn’t bother asking about, mostly because he didn’t want Jun asking questions in return, but partly because not knowing was part of the appeal, part of what made Jun interesting.

Sho turns the signal light on, just in time for them to use the nearest exit.

There’s a triumphant smile on Jun’s face when he finally lets go, and Sho focuses on the road ahead, his GPS telling him they have a little over fifty kilometers to go. The revolver has mingled with his body heat, almost like it has become a part of him, and with it he drives on, wasting gas with Jun right by his side.

\--

It’s nightfall when they reach the edge of the lake, the establishments around the area are closed because of the snowstorm predicted. If they didn’t leave any time soon, Sho supposes they will be stranded.

He has picked up food and water in Inakadate so he’s not worried about starvation and dehydration. Rather, he’s far more concerned about being in a place with a stranger who definitely knows he’s not up to anything good, but still chose to come with him.

There are things about Jun that he wants to find out, and he’s almost certain that a part of Jun wants him to try.

The road remains desolate save for them and the rental car but Sho finds a secluded spot to park before turning off the car and facing his companion with expectant eyes.

He places his hands in his lap so as not to alert Jun to anything. If Jun tries anything funny, Sho is sure it will be the last thing he’s going to be able to do.

“Why did we come here?” Sho asks. In the coming years, he’s going to have the same question in his thoughts, when there’s the scent of the sea in his nostrils and an empty warehouse towers above him. At that time, though, he won’t be able to voice it.

“Look around,” Jun says. There’s nothing but the darkness of the night surrounding them, although if Sho strains his hearing, there’s the distinct sound of wind howling amidst the deafening silence.

Sho’s eyes narrow then, and he turns to Jun. Jun couldn’t have known. Sho remembers everything he said to the man when they met the night before. He couldn’t have slipped.

How did he know?

“Are you going to shoot me now?” Jun suddenly asks, his face breaking into a knowing smile.

Sho makes no move to grasp his revolver; Jun can’t know where he’s keeping it. Not when they’re having this conversation for the first and might be the last time. “I thought you said you’re a cook?”

“That wasn’t a lie,” Jun informs him, and he sounds a bit offended.

“Ah,” Sho says, catching on. He gives Jun a once over and matches his grin. “Where have you been keeping your knife?”

“Where do you keep your gun?” Jun asks back, his eyes never leaving Sho’s.

Sho reaches to his side and pulls his revolver out, cocking it. It will not be the last time he will point it at Jun. The sound rings inside the vehicle, and usually, that alone is more than enough to make the other party panic and beg for mercy, their hands outstretched as they try to talk Sho out of it.

It never works.

But Jun here, he really is different, even exceptional. He merely tilts his head at the sight of the .357 and its muzzle pointed at his face. “If you shoot me, what’s my number?”

It takes a beat for Sho to understand. “Three,” he replies honestly.

Jun seems surprised, his eyebrows lifting before his face breaks into another one of his wide grins. “You don’t do it as often as I imagined,” Jun comments.

“I wasn’t lying about being a salaryman,” Sho says, and Jun laughs, one that reaches his eyes.

He leans back in the seat and Sho keeps the revolver pointed at him. Jun reaches out and Sho braces himself for a struggle, so he doesn’t give when Jun grips the muzzle.

That earns him the click of Jun’s tongue. “Lower it so I can see your face.”

“Why?” Sho asks, still not budging.

He catches Jun’s grip tightening on the metal of his gun, the obnoxious skull ring he’s wearing producing a tiny clang. “I want to see how you look before you go for the kill.”

Sho complies, lowering the firearm just a bit, enough for Jun to be able to look at him.

He doesn’t look away from Jun’s eyes even as Jun resumes staring at him, his smile growing as he lets his gaze travel across Sho’s face, his neck, the rest of his body before moving back to the revolver in his outstretched hand. Jun doesn’t appear intimidated.

He seems amused.

“Why were you on the road last night?” Sho asks, figuring that if Jun spits out another unconvincing lie, he can always blow the man’s brains out.

“I was bored,” is the response Sho gets. In time, he will learn that that reason is more than enough to make Jun do things, enough to make him do things for Jun’s satisfaction, for his own pleasure. “Why were you on the road last night?”

Sho remembers that he needs to tidy up before he goes back to Tokyo, that it’s going to be a while before he can do this again.

“Looking,” he answers honestly. What an odd dose of luck, he supposes, that he found someone like him. “If you slash my throat, what’s my number?”

Jun blinks, and for a moment there’s a faraway look in his eyes. “Six,” he says, then he’s shaking his head. “No, seven.” He blinks repeatedly, and Sho realizes he doesn’t remember. He levels Sho with a pointed look. “Does it matter?”

That he lost count? It does to Sho. “I’ve never heard of you.”

“I never killed anyone important,” Jun counters, his confidence returning. At Sho’s frown, he elaborates. “They were all reported missing.”

Sho’s confusion hasn’t left him yet. “Why did you kill them then, if they were unimportant?” At the tone of Jun’s voice, it almost sounded like every person he murdered was irrelevant. He has no recollection what number Sho would be if he kills Sho right now.

Sho comes to an understanding.

He kills for sport.

“I told you,” Jun says, smiling.

He was bored.

Jun crosses his arms over his chest, his lopsided smile still gracing his handsome face. “Are you going to shoot me now?” he asks for the second time that night.

When Sho doesn’t move, merely studies Jun’s face, it appears Jun has had enough. He moves swiftly, but not enough to startle Sho into pulling the trigger. He reaches out and shoves the gun away, sending it to the cup holder beside the handbrake.

There’s an insistent hand on Sho’s nape, pulling him closer until he feels Jun’s hot breath fanning his cheek.

“Decide,” Sho dares him, feeling the tip of a knife pressed to his side. He didn’t even see Jun pull it anywhere out of his person. He’s quick, Sho would give him that. But Sho is not afraid of him, and he’s sure Jun can see it.

Kill me or kiss me, which is it, Sho wonders?

He reaches down, wrapping his palm around the flat and sharp blade. A few seconds pass before he feels it give, and Sho sends the knife to the floor mat with a dull thud before pulling Jun to him, easily finding his mouth with his own.

He asks himself, which is it, Sho? The question rings in his head as he parts his mouth for Jun’s tongue, responds to Jun’s moans with his own, feeling heat radiate throughout his body despite the cold surrounding them.

When Jun’s hands clutch possessively around his neck, squeezing just enough for him to feel the slightest constriction around his windpipe, he decides.

It’s both that he wants to do, and when he draws back to look into Jun’s eyes, he discovers that it’s mutual.

It’s also both that Jun wants to do to him.

\--

They manage to move to the backseat, already half-naked with Jun climbing over him as soon as he is settled in the middle of the seat.

There is the now-familiar pressure of Jun’s lips sliding against his as he lets his hands roam, tracing Jun’s sides, the ridges formed by his ribs before finding his nipple. It hardens under his touch and Sho twists it between his fingers without warning, feeling Jun gasp against his mouth, body arching on top of him.

He hears a hushed whisper of his name and he darts out a tongue to lick Jun’s chin up to the mole that he has there, the one Sho first noticed last night.

Jun finds his mouth again, kisses him fiercely, full of want and something else Sho now identifies as bloodlust. The part of him that wants to kill Sho is evident in the way he holds Sho’s face and swallows Sho’s moans for himself. His long fingers frame Sho’s cheeks as Sho proceeds to map out his spine, the muscles of his back, up to his broad shoulders.

Sho wouldn’t be surprised if Jun has had to hoist a body up onto those shoulders after a kill.

He ducks down to press his tongue against Jun’s jaw, sucking at the angle when Jun faces the side. In an instant there’s a strong pull on his hair and he draws back, finding that Jun’s looking at him intently.

In the dark, his eyes are almost indiscernible because of how black they are.

Jun is panting as he reaches up to trace the outline of Sho’s lips. “Did you sleep with them before you killed them?” There’s an edge to his voice, something that delights Sho. “I would hate it if you did before pulling the trigger.”

“You’re the only one who got this far,” Sho informs him, mouth parting just enough for Jun to slip two of his fingers inside. He sucks them, lets Jun shove his fingers up to the knuckle inside his mouth, allows Jun to do whatever he wants. Jun continues pushing them in, until Sho’s lips close over his cold silver ring, until Sho’s sucking at the jewelry and swirling his tongue around Jun’s fingers over and over.

There’s a thread of glistening saliva clinging to the tip of Jun’s forefinger when he finally pulls his fingers out. With his wet fingers he traces Sho’s jawline down to Sho’s neck, lingering a little on the distended neck vein and pressing against Sho’s rushed pulse.

Jun’s fingers dance over his collarbone, scattering traces of cold on Sho’s skin, and Sho tilts his head back when Jun follows the path his fingers made with his mouth, the sudden warmth a stark contrast to the sensation his fingers left. He lingers a little over the skin of Sho’s neck, blowing hot, sticky puffs of air that make Sho shiver, travels further down to Sho’s collarbone and sucks at it repeatedly, hard enough that it would surely bruise when the morning comes.

Sho feels the hard, unyielding line of Jun’s teeth and he tugs at Jun’s hair to make the man look at him, but instead Jun’s mouth closes over his, and Sho feels a sudden, piercing pain followed by the hot and metallic taste of oozing blood.

Jun pulls back to look at what he just did, his lips darkened and glistening because of Sho’s blood. There’s a trickle sliding down Sho’s bottom lip to his chin, and he feels Jun regard it, feels Jun’s gaze following the heated trail it makes as it slides against Sho’s skin.

He’s imagining it, Sho realizes. Jun is imagining him covered in his own blood, stained crimson and gasping for life, his eyes wide but full of understanding. The curtain is lifting just high enough, and it’s the first time Sho sees Jun’s selfishness.

He believes this won’t be the last.

Jun’s tongue is already darting out as he leans in and licks off Sho’s blood, leaves Sho’s chin wet but spotless. After that there’s again the surging warmth of Jun’s mouth, Jun sucking at the wound he left on Sho until it ceases bleeding and Sho’s panting heavily.

“Would you have me bleed if you had it your way?” Sho asks, spine curving as his body bucks back, searching for the heat Jun provides.

“If I had it my way I would ask what you want,” Jun whispers against his heart, his teeth finding skin and tugging on it. Sho lets out a hitching breath. “And I would give it to you.”

His revolver shines under the moonlight, out of reach but as if beckoning him to try.

He makes up his mind.

“Have it your way.”

Jun tenses momentarily on top of him, then his eyes flit to Sho’s, turning to slits when he sees nothing but determination there.

“What do you want?” Jun asks softly, his eyes calculating but still overflowing with desire.

Images of Jun adding to his body count flash before his eyes. He can see Jun lying on his back and taking it, groaning out his name as he repeatedly hisses against every unforgiving push Sho’s hips make. Jun’s face creased in pleasure alternates with his expression of pain, both of which are things Sho can only imagine at the moment.

Somewhere past his madness lies creativity.

“All of it,” Sho answers.

\--

He thumbs at the bead of sweat traveling down the hollow of Jun’s throat as Jun grinds himself back down, each movement punctuated with a hitched moan and the feeling of nails digging into flesh.

When Jun uses his knees to lift his body, Sho involuntarily bucks back to chase after the lost warmth. It sends him deeper into Jun, who murmurs his encouragement with repeated whispers of Sho’s name as he moves faster, obscene, repeated sounds buzzing in Sho’s ears. Sho’s filling him up again and again, and he watches in awe as Jun gradually loses coherency, baring himself, how he lives up to his promise.

Jun takes his face in his hands, his eyes wild and breathing ragged. His movements turn erratic and forceful, and he breathes sharply through his nose before he’s able to get some words out.

“Come back to Tokyo with me.” It ends in a choked groan and with Jun’s eyes fluttering shut, because Sho doesn’t stop moving, continuously taking what he needs.

He nips at the curve of Jun’s shoulder, tasting sweat and smelling sex. His grip on Jun’s hips tightens, and together they move, Jun holding on to him and leaving his skin marked just as Sho imprints his flesh with bruises, littering purple across the expanse of white.

If Sho can’t kill him, he’ll leave marks for Jun to see and remember where he’s been. It’s what Jun is also doing. There’s still the lingering sting on his lips every time he moistens them.

He bites Jun’s earlobe before giving a deep, rumbling groan of “yes”, holding the other man’s body close, perspiration and exertion mingling, building, fogging up the car windows.

In his lustful haze, Jun somehow manages to keep still, eyes searching Sho’s. Sho repeats his agreement, his promise. “I’ll return to Tokyo with you,” he breathes, trying his best not to thrust back into the blinding heat of Jun’s body.

Jun’s face breaks into a smile and he leans forward to find Sho’s mouth before grinding back down, and this time, Sho no longer holds back, fucking him, meeting him in the middle. He can feel Jun’s ridiculously large ring against his abdomen as Jun touches himself the way he moves on top of Sho—unrelenting, burning, almost savage.

Sho’s eyes flutter close when Jun’s teeth find his jaw, and there he is groaning his pleasure before tipping over and letting go, clamping down and making Sho swear in response.

Jun’s movements come to a stop and Sho takes over, hands reaching down to spread his ass cheeks apart as he thrusts up, seeking release, over and over into Jun’s body.

A trembling hand drags down his chest as he moves, and he hisses when nails embed into the skin over his heart. They are aligned, Jun’s comforting weight pressed firmly against him, his warm and very much alive body thrumming with satisfaction.

“Have it your way,” comes Jun’s sudden whisper. He doesn’t elaborate but it’s enough, more than enough—Sho can see it. Jun bathed in crimson, eyes as dark as Sho remembers, smile as familiar as the night before, intentions as unclear as the moment they first met, desire so evident as it is now.

It’s enough and Sho’s breath catches in his throat, finishing barely with a sound, the world fading away.

\--

A fingernail claws over his breastbone and he hisses at the momentary pain, knowing the skin will redden. A soothing kiss soon follows it, travels up, finds the curve of his jaw and lingers there.

“We should move soon.” It’s not an offer and Sho doesn’t take it for one.

His response is to run his thumb down the ridges of Jun’s spine, lower, lower, until he reaches the tailbone. Jun squirms at his touch with a tiny breathless laugh.

Something shines in the corner of his eye and he merely looks at Jun when he feels the pointed tip of Jun’s knife against his throat. When did he grab it? How? Sho doesn’t know, and finds that he no longer cares.

“You’re not afraid,” Jun states. He doesn’t sound offended nor surprised.

Sho’s gaze moves past Jun’s face, out where he can see the blanket of darkness, where the lake is. Underneath the thick sheet of ice lies unfrozen water. This is the perfect place to leave her.

He thinks of the body wrapped in plastic inside his car’s trunk.

He was right to trust Jun.

“No.” He reaches up, fingers tracing Jun’s distinct eyebrow, across his damp forehead.

Outside, the snow begins to fall.

He returns Jun’s smile. “I’m not.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Panic! At The Disco's Victorious.


End file.
